


Of Fridays and Spilled Coffees

by TRPLKIM (zouology)



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: BABI THIS IS FOR YOU!!, Clumsiness, Coffee, HAPPY ONE YEAR!, Jinhwan is kind of mean, M/M, Slice of Life, Wet Dream, a bit awkward, office worker jinhwan, recurring gay panic from hanbin's part, there's loads of mentions of it, uni student hanbin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21663751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouology/pseuds/TRPLKIM
Summary: It’s a good day, Hanbin thinks.
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jinhwan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> For Babi. Thank you for putting up with me for a whole year so far and thank you for always being my biggest supporter. Love you

_It’s a good day_ , Hanbin thinks. 

He’s finished all the essays he had due this week, his mom had called right after he had woken up so he had gotten to talk to Hanbyul, the sun was shining (albeit shyly). Everything feels right for the first time in a long while, and since he has some time to spare before class he decides to get the pretentious-sounding coffee he always feels too guilty to splurge his money on— _Treat yourself once in a while_ , isn’t that what Yunhyeong always tells him?

Hanbin chains his bike to a nearby rack and finds himself humming a tune he can’t seem to get out of his head —he’ll have to write it down before he forgets it. He thinks about sending Jiwon a vocal note of him singing it because he knows how much the older hates that, but just as he’s pulling his phone out of his back pocket he bumps into somebody right at the door of the café. 

_It’s a great day_ , Hanbin corrects himself. The somebody is a man —without a doubt the most beautiful one Hanbin has ever laid eyes on. He’s shorter than Hanbin, but he can’t tell if he’s younger: his face looks youthful but his light brown hair is styled neatly and the tailored suit he’s wearing is dark, crisp, immaculate. He looks like someone who, unlike Hanbin, has his life figured out. 

The man makes a displeased face, glares up at him and Hanbin’s brain seems to catch up with reality. Bump. Coffee spilled. Beautiful man is angry. _Focus, Hanbin_. Suddenly, today doesn’t seem so great anymore.

“I— I’m sorry,” Hanbin stutters, suddenly self conscious. Even though he’s taller, he feels like he’s being stared down. He glances at their feet to assess the damage: the cup of coffee had fallen and spilled all its contents on both his own shoes and the man’s. Hanbin doesn’t dare to say it out loud, but he’s fairly sure that his ratty Converse shoes that he insist on wearing like slippers were stained beyond salvation, unlike the man’s polished leather shoes, unharmed except for a few splashes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, because the other still hasn’t spoken a word. “I can get you another one.” 

“No,” the man says, so harsh and vexed as though Hanbin had just gotten down on one knee to ask him to get married and elope. Not that Hanbin is considering that or anything.

“Okay,” Hanbin says and steps aside when the man pushes past him. He forgets the tune he was humming, but a new, better one takes its place right away.

The following week, Hanbin finds himself almost unconsciously checking the café’s windows on his way to uni, slowing his pedaling down as if the mean, gorgeous guy was going to walk out any second. It never happens… until a few days later. 

It’s on a Friday again, and it’s been a full week since Hanbin has first and last seen the man but his brisk walk is unmistakable even from afar. He struts like the sidewalk is his personal runway. Hanbin would find it annoying if he wasn’t so captivated by it. He checks his watch (the one he’s nicked from Hanbyul months ago). 8:47 a.m.

On Monday, he overdoes it. He wakes up before his alarm goes off and, unable to shake the nervous energy off, he bikes to the café. It’s 7:40 a.m. but the place is bustling already, yet there’s no sign of _him_. Hanbin orders the cheapest drink, a plain black coffee, dumps an unhealthy amount of sugar in it and sits down on one of the armchairs, set on waiting there to catch a glimpse of the man. Maybe even talk to him, if he feels brave enough.

Sadly, because Hanbin’s whole life is a joke, what he actually ends up doing is fall asleep: the café is too cozy and warm, the armchair too comfortable and he’s a sleep-deprived uni student. A staff member politely shakes him by the shoulder to wake him up and Hanbin finds out he’s missed the start of his 9am lecture. Flushed, he thanks _HELLO! I AM: Donghyuk_ , apologizes profusely and leaves his coffee untouched on the table.

_hanbin:  
went at the café too early this morning, he didn’t show  
is it creepy if i try again tomorrow or_

_junhoe:  
kinda_

_chanwoo:  
yes_

_bobby:  
bro_

_yunhyeong:  
no  
i mean, maybe_

_hanbin:  
…ok_

Despite the lack of support, Hanbin does try again. He thinks there’s no harm giving himself one last chance. On Tuesday morning, 8:30 a.m. sharp, he walks in the café. He scans the place and —embarrassingly enough— he actually gasps out loud, drawing the attention of the very same man he was so desperately trying to meet again.

“Hi,” Hanbin blurts out when he steps in queue behind him. 

“…Do I know you?” the guy asks and his tone is still the same: cold, sharp. Yet, for some weird reason, Hanbin wants to hear more of it. “Well?” he insists when Hanbin hesitates.

Hanbin clears his throat awkwardly, realizing that while he’s been obsessing over the man, the latter probably hasn’t given him a second thought. Obviously. Still, there’s no escaping the shorter’s glare so: “Um, a few days ago. Made you spill your coffee,” he reminds and hopes to any god available that he made at least _some_ type of impression.

“Oh, _you_. I remember now,” the man says with a slight nod and moves forward with the queue. Given the scowl, Hanbin is pretty sure he isn’t faking.

“Yeah, well. Sorry about that,” Hanbin says and holds his hand out. “I’m Hanbin.”

“Jinhwan,” he says, shaking it after a moment of consideration. Hanbin feels elated. _Jinhwan, Jinhwan, Jinhwan_! He finally has a name, and it’s a beautiful one.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. He does _not_ take notice of how soft Jinhwan’s hand actually feels in his, how small and delicate it is. “Can I get you that coffee I owe you, then?” 

Hanbin’s kind of proud he’s said all that without stuttering, even though he couldn’t hold eye contact (despite practicing that same sentence for the last few days). Jinhwan is as intimidating as they come, with his whole untouchable aura, his perfect hair and neat suit. 

As if to confirm the notion, Jinhwan actually stares him down this time around. He takes in Hanbin’s bright coloured tee, his overly ripped jeans, the same ratty Converse shoes he wore the day they met with the added faint coffee stain on them. Hanbin knows his fashion sense isn’t the best, but he doesn’t think he looks half as bad today —the tucked t-shirt touch was fashionable, was it not? He grips the strap of his backpack for dear life as he awaits for Jinhwan’s final verdict.

“An iced coffee, no sugar.”

Hanbin’s eyes light up and he nods. “Coming right up,” he says, a tad too enthusiastically, like he’s the one about to make Jinhwan’s drink. He gives their order to the cashier, which turns out to be the same guy from yesterday, Donghyuk.

“Feeling more awake today?” he asks with a smirk and Hanbin’s cheeks colour lightly. He replies with a pained hum, pays for their drinks (he’ll have to skip lunch today) and hands Jinhwan his.

“Thank you,” Jinhwan says formally, nods at Hanbin and leaves just like that, without looking back. Hanbin watches him walk out of the door, jaw-slacked. Admittedly, in his stupor, he still has the time to check out Jinhwan’s ass. 

“Ouch,” Donghyuk comments. Hanbin nods slowly.

It takes a day and a half for Hanbin’s pride to heal. So this Jinhwan guy doesn’t like him, big deal, many people can’t stand Hanbin —himself included— so Jinhwan’s not that special. And while it’s true that Hanbin keeps thinking about his slanted, judgy eyes and the little mole on his cheekbone, he tells himself not to waste his time. Jinhwan’s probably rude and snobby.

Life has a funny way of working out, though. ‘Funny’ as in making Hanbin want the ground to swallow him whole. ‘Working out’ as in Hanbin almost running Jinhwan over with his bike. 

It’s Friday. Hanbin’s decided to ditch class to bike to Jiwon’s place as fast as he can. He’s been hit by a sudden creativity streak when he woke up and his brain is spewing ideas faster than he can write them down so, before everything dries up once again, he _needs_ to get to the makeshift studio Jiwon has set up in his room. As he’s riding he thinks of lyrics about rejection, melancholic melodies that will have Jiwon worry about him, pretty lips.

After speeding down the main, busy street, he turns around the corner to take the usual shortcut, expecting to find the narrow road empty like it usually is at this hour of the morning. Instead, someone’s walking right in the middle of it. Hanbin notices this at the last second and swerves his bike in a move that nearly sends him flying on the ground, narrowly missing the street lamp when he brakes. 

“Un- _fucking_ -believable.”

Hanbin whips his head around at the velvety voice and gapes: out of all the people in Seoul, it’s Jinhwan standing there. He’s shaking his hand like he burned himself, looking appropriately pissed off. It’s the first time Hanbin has seen past the icy exterior, but it’s hardly the time to delve into that.

“Are you alright?” Hanbin manages to say over his thumping heart. He rests his shabby bike on the light pole he was about to run into and walks over to Jinhwan on wobbly legs. He isn’t sure whether the adrenaline rush he feels is caused by the near bike accident or by seeing Jinhwan again, but he feels overwhelmed. 

“Hanbin?!”

Hanbin gets a weird thrill when Jinhwan says his name. He remembers it! Jinhwan remembers _him_! The excitement dies, though, as soon as he takes notice of the murderous stare Jinhwan is wearing. Hanbin finds that he’s indeed burned himself —with his coffee. He must have spilled it when Hanbin had recklessly rounded the corner. Now, there’s an ugly brown stain on Jinhwan’s pristine shirt, the kind that doesn’t go off no matter how hard you try. The paper cup keeps rolling aimlessly on the concrete, bumping into Jinhwan’s leather shoes repeatedly. There are some splashes of coffee on them. Déjà-vu. 

Behind Hanbin, the bike falls on the ground, making a huge ruckus. It feels like an appropriate metaphor of his heart dropping. Jinhwan closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“What’s wrong with you?” he snaps, but it sounds like a rhetorical question so Hanbin stays quiet. “I could’ve gotten seriously hurt. And you as well!”

“I’m sorry,” Hanbin says, cringing. There’s not much else to add. “I really am.”

“How can I go to work like this?” Jinhwan mutters almost to himself. Hanbin digs around the pockets of his jacket and finds a pack of tissues. He hands one to Jinhwan, who takes it after a second of hesitation, just like when they shook hands. 

Hanbin watches him dry his hand and then gently tap at his chest where the stain is, to no avail. He thinks of what to say and holds himself back from telling Jinhwan he should’ve kept the lid on his coffee cup. He settles on offering help. “I could, uh. I mean, please, let me pay for the dry cleaning.”

Jinhwan glares over at him and Hanbin has an urge to apologize again. “It doesn’t look like you can afford it. No offense.”

 _No offense_. Hanbin snorts, although he realizes a moment later that in all fairness he _was_ in the streets in his pajama pants, wearing just a t-shirt under his lumpy jacket, same old Converse shoes at his feet. 

“Shit. I’m gonna be late if I don’t hurry,” Jinhwan says all of a sudden, checking his watch. 

“Wait,” Hanbin says and slings his backpack on his front, rummaging through it. “I have this,” he says, unsure, pulling out a thin striped sweater. It’s black and yellow. Jinhwan takes it to inspect it, just as unsure.

“This is hideous,” he whispers, disgust clear on his face.

“Well,” Hanbin says because there’s not much else to add. 

“I can’t wear this.”

“Suit yourself. I was trying to help,” Hanbin doesn’t mean to sound defensive, but there’s no reason for Jinhwan to be such a dick.

“This is your fault in the first place,” Jinhwan retorts. _Oh, right_. Maybe he has a reason then. “Why do you carry spare clothes in your backpack anyway? Are you ten?”

“I’m clumsy,” Hanbin mumbles. 

“I can’t wear this,” Jinhwan repeats, looking over the sweater. 

“Okay.”

Jinhwan glances at him and at the black and yellow eyesore. He purses his lips, then checks the time again. He seems to change his mind. “Is it clean?”

“Ish?” Hanbin offers with a shrug, embarrassed. Jinhwan groans loudly but stuffs the sweater into his leather shoulder bag regardless. 

“What a shitty day,” he complains and Hanbin nods even though he doesn’t quite agree. “Listen, I have to run. I’ll give you the sweater back on Monday. Meet me at the café. 8:30 a.m. Okay?”

Hanbin nods again. “8:30 a.m. At the café,” he repeats dumbly. 

“Don’t be late,” Jinhwan says in a reprimanding tone, as if the café was their meeting spot and Hanbin had been late time and time again. Hanbin can only nod his head again. Jinhwan waves and then he’s off, walking briskly into the distance. “And ride safely!” he shouts before he disappears around the corner. 

Hanbin picks up the paper cup from the ground and stares at it for a long time. There are no longer songs in his brain. His head is empty and he feels like he’s floating on air.


	2. TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ................i'm sorry this took so long

On Monday, Hanbin is _almost_ late. 

He’s debated for almost twenty minutes whether or not to wear his stupid orange beanie in front of the full-length mirror in his room —the almost opaque one with a crack running right in the middle that Jiwon and him had rescued from the dumpster one night. He decides on yes, feels confident up until he gets to the front door, only to yank it off his head just before stepping out. 

Yunhyeong had policed the rest of his outfit when he found out Hanbin was going to wear his old jeans overalls (“Aren’t overalls in right now?” Hanbin had asked and Yunhyeong had looked offended. “They aren’t and they never were. You’re a disgrace.”). So, he’s wearing a casual oversized shirt and some sensibly ripped jeans, Converse shoes at his feet like he’s glued to them. Yunhyeong told him he looked decent and that’s the highest praise he’s ever gotten out of him, so it has to mean something.

Hanbin finds that getting at the café at 8:29am like he did or late wouldn’t have mattered because Jinhwan is already there. He’s wearing a navy blue suit, sitting cross-legged at a table and swirling his iced coffee with the straw. He looks poised, if not a little bored, something like a pouty prince. His beauty almost scares Hanbin, but he soldiers on.

“Good morning,” he says, flashing a nervous little smile.

“Hanbin,” Jinhwan says in lieu of greeting him. He seems to say it always in the same way, with a hint of disgust, like Hanbin and him aren’t on the same level. Hanbin supposes they aren’t. 

Hanbin waits. Jinhwan is supposed to give him his sweater back, say something mildly offensive and then leave, off to work and into Hanbin’s memories for him to replay over and over again.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Jinhwan says instead and Hanbin pauses, fearing he’d heard wrong. But then Jinhwan gestures at the chair in front of him and Hanbin takes the seat. 

The waiter comes around almost immediately but it’s not Donghyuk, and for some reason Hanbin feels disheartened by it —he needs someone else to witness what is happening and tell him he’s not hallucinating. Hanbin orders a black coffee.

“So, no wild riding today?” Jinhwan asks.

“Excuse me?”

“The bike,” Jinhwan clarifies with a roll of his eyes and takes a sip of his coffee. 

“Oh! No, I was safe. I don’t usually bike that way, I promise,” Hanbin says with an embarrassed chuckle and scratches behind his ear. He doesn’t look into Jinhwan’s eyes, focuses on his drink instead. It’s not the plain iced coffee Jinhwan had told him to order last week and he wonders which one is his favourite.

“Where were you going, such in a rush?” Jinhwan asks. Hanbin doesn’t know why Jinhwan is having a conversation with him out of the blue, but he plays along cautiously.

“My friend has a studio in his flat… Well, not a professional one, but we make do,” Hanbin says. “We make songs, or beats, or anything really. It’s kind of our hobby.” He had downplayed it: music is essentially what he lives for, but it feels too intimate for Jinhwan to know just yet.

“Is that what you’re studying at university?” 

“How do you know I go?”

“You can tell,” Jinhwan says with a smirk. Hanbin’s black coffee arrives as a welcome distraction from it.

“Huh. I guess so,” Hanbin hums. He wonders if Jinhwan is being derisive and if he’s only talking to Hanbin to make fun of him later with his fancy work friends. Jinhwan must sense that something is off because his expression goes back to the usual neutral mask. 

“Here’s your sweater,” he says and hands him the little shopping bag Hanbin hadn’t noticed was at his feet. “I washed it. It didn’t go so bad, actually.”

“That’s good, I’m glad,” Hanbin says politely and takes the bag. Their fingers brush for the briefest moment and Hanbin avoids thinking about it by looking inside the bag, as if making sure the sweater was there. 

“Listen,” Jinhwan says when they stand up, ready to leave. “I didn’t mean to come off like that, I know I sound like a dick.”

Hanbin wants to confirm it with a pointed _mhm_ but Jinhwan looks almost nervous so he lets him gather his thoughts to finish speaking.

“I was a uni student too, not so long ago,” Jinhwan says with a slight smile. “So I see a lot of the me from back then in you.”

“You mean stressed out and all over the place?” Hanbin jokes, because Jinhwan is making the effort of opening up for some reason and he wants to make it easier.

Jinhwan snorts. “You could say that,” he admits eventually. He pays for their drinks, ignoring Hanbin’s feeble protest, and even tips the waiter. “But also driven and… somewhat excited about life,” he says and shrugs.

They walk outside, both still carrying their drinks. Hanbin’s glad about that as it gives him something to do with his hands now that he’s put the sweater in his backpack. “What did you study?” he asks, interested in why Jinhwan had sounded so melancholic. It makes him seem older than he probably is.

“Business and management,” Jinhwan says and Hanbin nods because he looks the part, even though he doesn’t seem particularly happy about it.

“Me too,” Hanbin says then and Jinhwan can’t disguise his surprise. Hanbin tries not to stare at his gaping lips.

“ _You_? Business?” 

“Yeah,” Hanbin laughs, cheeks a bit flushed under all the attention Jinhwan is giving him. 

“I thought you’d be in the Arts department for sure,” Jinhwan admits, though without any malice. Hanbin starts to relax a little.

“I never said I was,” he points out and Jinhwan nods. He gestures to his left and they simply start walking idly. Towards Jinhwan’s workplace, Hanbin assumes. 

“Is Professor Park still teaching Statistics?” Jinhwan asks curiously, sipping his coffee.

“Yeah,” Hanbin sighs and his face contorts in a grimace. “Sadly, he is. I’m having some trouble with his classes, actually.”

Jinhwan seems to mull over something for a bit, chewing his straw. Hanbin takes the opportunity to throw away his disgustingly bitter coffee. “I think I still have notes at home. I could lend them to you, if you want.”

“Really?” Hanbin asks, surprised. “If it’s because you feel bad, don’t worry about it.”

“No, please, I insist. You lent me your sweater after all,” Jinhwan says and he shrugs, nonchalant. Somehow, Jinhwan pretending he’s not doing something nice is endearing to Hanbin and he can’t help but smile.

“You said it was hideous,” Hanbin reminds him and he can’t believe _he_ ’s the one teasing Jinhwan and that the older’s ears have taken a bright red colour right before his eyes. 

“I was in a bad mood. Do you want the notes or not?” Jinhwan asks, slipping back to his brusque manners. “I was an honour’s student and all.”

“Sure. Okay, thank you,” Hanbin says and then pauses, grabbing the straps of his backpack. He feels like a skydiver bracing for impact. “So, uh. Should we meet for another coffee?”

Jinhwan stops walking and hums. They’re in the same little road Hanbin had almost run Jinhwan over just a couple of days ago. He guesses it’s Jinhwan’s shortcut too. “Yeah. Yeah, of course,” he says with a small, sincere smile. “I’ll leave you my number and you can text me when you’re free.”

Hanbin feels like he’s living an out of body experience. He sees himself give Jinhwan his phone and watches as he scrunches his nose cutely. Probably at how old the model is, or at the cracks on the screen, or at the lack of a password. Maybe at all of that, but Hanbin doesn’t care because a few moments later he’s pocketing away his phone, now made priceless by Jinhwan’s number, and Jinhwan is still smiling.

“You know, someone at work actually complimented my sweater,” he says before he walks away, and Hanbin laughs, feeling like they’re a couple sharing their first inside joke.

It goes like this: they meet two days later, then the day after that. And then they meet on every weekday, almost without fail. Hanbin rolls out of bed early in the morning even when he doesn’t need to go to class, and sometimes he gets to the café before Jinhwan, kills time thinking about the topics he wants to discuss with the older. Other times, especially after staying up all night working on an essay or revising, he arrives in a rush, afraid Jinhwan might’ve already left for work, only to find him at their usual round table, holding an iced coffee in his hands while a warm (ish) black coffee is right there, waiting for Hanbin.

On one memorable occasion —for Hanbin— they get to the café at the same time from opposite sides of the road. They both stop walking at once, as if hesitating. There’s an odd type of embarrassment in the air when they walk in together, like a reverse walk of shame. Hanbin catches Donghyuk’s curious eyes over Jinhwan’s head and flushes without a real reason. 

Do they look like a couple to others? The thought has him blushing even more, though he quickly reaches the conclusion that they probably don’t, not when Hanbin looks like a kid with his bright mismatched socks and his ever-present backpack, standing right next to Jinhwan, who seems five minutes away from a photoshoot at all times. What a difference two years can make.

One night, cooped up in the studio, he had confided to Jiwon that he sometimes felt out of his depth when Jinhwan and him spoke about serious matters, like the present state of the country’s economy or Jinhwan’s work problems at YG Enterprises. Jiwon had asked if it was Jinhwan making him feel that way and Hanbin was surprised to realize that the older had never made him feel inadequate on purpose, instead it was his own self doubt eating at him.

In fact, Jinhwan hadn’t batted an eye even when Hanbin had admitted to him that he was two years behind at university, that he should’ve graduated already —something that usually made him feel ashamed when he said it out out loud. But Jinhwan didn’t probe or comment any further than a neutral _I see_ before going back to his coffee. Jinhwan judges his clothes a lot, but never really _him_. 

Presently, it’s a Wednesday and Hanbin’s pouring his customary three packets of sugar in his black coffee. The air is getting chilly and soon they won’t be able to sit outside anymore, which is a pity in Hanbin’s opinion. He liked seeing shy rays of sunshine kiss Jinhwan’s pale skin first thing in the morning for the past few weeks. 

“You put too much sugar in your coffee” Jinhwan tells him with a slight grimace. “Your teeth will fall out.”

Lately he has taken up acting like some sort of parental figure, as if the slight age difference allowed it. Hanbin doesn’t really mind the nagging. “My teeth are fine,” he says.

“I don’t get it. Why get black coffee in the first place, just take something sweeter?”

Hanbin shrugs and stirs his coffee silently, keeping his eyes down. He’d found out that he was terrible at bullshitting Jinhwan, so he avoids the older’s inquisitive eyes.

“Hanbin,” Jinhwan prompts, and like every time he says his name, Hanbin feels a shiver go down his spine. It doesn’t sound mean anymore, but it feels just as intense. “Do you even _like_ coffee?” 

“Of course.”

“Do you?” Jinhwan pushes and waits until Hanbin is forced to make eye contact. The younger flushes lightly like each time Jinhwan’s attention is fully on him and looks back his plastic cup. His mind races as his thoughts mush together, _Jinhwan’s heart shaped mole is pretty_ and _His lips look so plush and soft_ and _Should I stop asking for a plastic straw with my drink?_

“N-no,” Hanbin ends up stammering and wonders if Jinhwan knows just how much power he has over him, how much Hanbin likes him.

Because Hanbin does, he likes Jinhwan so earnestly it overwhelms him at random times of the day. It happens when Jinhwan offers him one of his rare gentle smiles and a soft _Good morning, Hanbin_ at the café, or when he’s doing chores and remembers something oddly funny Jinhwan had said. Or when he’s in class and he gets a text from _jinan hyung ☕️_. The texts are usually short and concise, either asking about Hanbin’s day or complaining about his own, but they’re charming in their own way. Chanwoo tells him they’re dating without any of the benefits and Hanbin makes a big show of scoffing and flipping him off, but he spends the next few hours wondering if there’s some truth to it.

Jinhwan smiles, satisfied that his bullying worked, and Hanbin thinks he _has_ to know. He doesn’t know how that makes him feel though. “Do you like hot cocoa?” the older asks then. When Hanbin nods he’s quick to flag Donghyuk to come over and order one.

“Hyung, you really shouldn’t have!” Hanbin whines, already adding the drink’s cost to the day’s expenses. He’s supposed to be buying today’s round.

“Why?” Jinhwan asks, snuggling a little further into his coat. It’s cute, but Hanbin’s a little annoyed at his recurring lack of sensibility when it comes to money, so he won’t let himself think about it.

Hanbin’s too proud to admit how broke he is, though. “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. Jinhwan sighs and keeps silent for a while.

“I’ve waited for you to tell me on your own, but I guess you won’t. Look, I _did_ notice you’re a little tight on money,” he says and Hanbin winces. “There’s no shame in that, Hanbin. But I don’t want you to worry about _breakfast_ of all things, so let me pay from now on, okay?”  
Hanbin’s shaking his head already but Jinhwan doesn’t let up. “You don’t owe me anything, I promise.”

“But—”

“Don’t be daft. I’m offering you free breakfast, just accept it,” Jinhwan says in a voice that allows no further protest. It’s a bit awkward after that, but the hot cocoa with extra whipped cream makes it better.

“So... I heard today’s the big day?” Junhoe asks the second he slides in the seat next to Hanbin’s for their microeconomics class. Unlike Hanbin, he’s not really behind, he just can’t seem to pass this one course. Hanbin suspects Junhoe’s tryst-gone-wrong with the professor might be to blame, but there’s an unspoken agreement to never mention it so he can’t know for sure.

“Tonight at eight, is it not?” Chanwoo says from the row behind them and Hanbin regrets ever opening up and telling them about it.

Tonight _was_ actually going to be something, although Hanbin wasn’t sure of what just yet. Jinhwan had invited him over to his with a curt text: _are you free on friday? we could watch a movie_. Normally, there would be no doubts about what that entailed —Hanbin was sure that it was more or less the same text Jiwon sent to his Tinder dates on a daily basis— but Jinhwan had never showed any signs of being interested in him.

Not like _that_ at least. Jinhwan was interested in how his statistics classes were going, he wanted to know how his little sister was doing after catching a cold or if he was tired after a long night of cramming for a quiz. He was always particularly interested in Hanbin’s music —which had sent the younger over the moon, as Jinhwan listened to snippets, complimented his beats and his flow. But he had never complimented Hanbin’s physical appearance or anything of the sort. He almost exclusively acted out the hyung role he had adopted, so Hanbin had virtually no expectations for anything sexual to happen. 

Maybe it’s just the natural progression of their friendship, he thinks. Plus, Jinhwan’s way out of his league so he can live with nothing happening, really…

If only that morning he hadn’t woken up sweaty, sticky and disoriented after having the most intense wet dream induced orgasm he’d had in his life. It had been so life-like, so detailed, he had to take a couple of seconds to get his bearings. 

After shaving, he spends at least five minutes watching his reflection in the little mirror of the bathroom as his mind replays the dream, recalling every aspect of it. Flashes of him and Jinhwan making out at the café, oddly empty and dimly-lit, flood his mind. Hard-ons pressed together as they grind. Hanbin sees Jinhwan sink to his knees right at their little round table. He pushes Hanbin’s thighs apart and takes his cock into his mouth once it’s out the confines of his sweatpants. 

Jinhwan teases him tonguing the slit, suckles at the head before swallowing more of his length easily, confidently, until his nose is touching Hanbin’s pubes. Hanbin has to use all of his self-control to keep from fucking into the tight lips enclosed around his cock. It’s been so long and Jinhwan is _too_ good.

Jinhwan pulls off his dick with a lewd popping sound and wipes his puffy mouth. His usually neat hair is flopping on his forehead and his cheeks are flushed, just like when he gets too heated during one of their discussions. Hanbin takes a brief moment to appreciate the expensive black suit Jinhwan’s is wearing, his personal favourite.

“I want you to fuck me in front all of these people,” Jinhwan says and when Hanbin looks up the previously deserted café is crowded. All the tables are occupied by faceless customers, Donghyuk is working his shift at the counter and Hanbin is just sitting there, with his slicked up cock out in the air. 

“C’mon Hanbin, I thought you wanted to be a performer… So perform.” Jinhwan’s voice is velvety, seductive and Hanbin’s eyes catch Donghyuk’s, who winks at him.

The details of the dream get sloppier, but Hanbin remembers vividly how real the slide inside Jinhwan felt, the tightness, the heat, the whines he’s yet to hear from Jinhwan in real life. Hanbin felt all eyes on them at the café and he had liked the feeling, liked knowing that everybody was aware that it was _him_ making Jinhwan —always composed, perfect Jinhwan— writhe under him, claw uselessly at the table while Hanbin fucked into him. Jinhwan had told him to perform and perform he did.

“So how are you feeling about it?” Junhoe asks, taking Hanbin’s attention back to reality. “Nervous? Excited?”

 _Far too excited_ , Hanbin thinks. “Fine,” he replies instead, relieved when their professor walks in, interrupting Junhoe’s chatter.

**Author's Note:**

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